


New Constellations

by Flukas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Famous Isaac, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, More characters and pairings to come, Non-famous Scott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-10-21 13:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17643575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flukas/pseuds/Flukas
Summary: Scott’s been obsessed with Isaac Lahey since he was fourteen years old. He’s studied the singer’s life more closely than he ever studied any subject in high school, and now, post-college, he’s still stupidly in love with the unattainable pop star. He’s been to every concert in driving distance; once he even got to meet Isaac very briefly for a VIP photo opportunity. He had every album, the unauthorized autobiography, and even the live concert dvd stored away on a bookshelf in his bedroom. It was probably a little embarrassing, but never let it be said that Scott McCall half-assed anything.When he’s particularly bored and seeking like-minded fans, he ventures onto Omegle to chat in the video section. It’s there when one night he sees the real Isaac Lahey via a video connection as the pop star is on vacation from recording and enjoying meeting his fans in the weird, cam-to-cam environment. Scott’s whole world flips and reorients itself in some alternate universe where he actually has a chance at friendship with the singer. And…maybe more (his little heart tries in vain not to hope for too desperately)?





	1. Jockstraps, Ocean Laughs, and a Pop Princess

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a multi-chapter work. 
> 
> Minor character death in Chapter One. But most of this work will be fluff-driven. It's what I enjoy.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

There were few things Scott McCall loved more than the first smell of home once he left life’s daily grind outside and stepped over the threshold into his rented one-bedroom apartment. The off-white walls he couldn’t paint and the stained carpet he could never quite get cleaned were a sight more welcomed than any other he typically encountered outside the small zone he’d cultivated. His hand-me-down furniture may not be the most stylish, sure; maybe some of the dining room tables were wobbly, and the sofa cushions were a little flat, whatever; but everything felt distinctly like _home_ whenever he walked through the door.

Locking the door behind him, Scott made a beeline for the sofa, falling down face-first with a satisfied, ‘Oomph.’ He could feel the shoulders of his suit jacked stretching uncomfortably, and if he was honest, the pants rode a little high, revealing too much of his socks whenever he moved or sat down. He knew it was small, but he didn’t exactly have spare money laying around to buy a fancy new suit for his estranged father’s funeral.

He heaved a long, even sigh. When his mother called earlier that week to deliver the news, he felt worse about his lack of emotion than about the death itself. He thought maybe he should shed a tear or do something dramatic like drink himself to sleep for a week, but after he ended the call, he threw a frozen pizza in the oven and watched six straight episodes of _Grimm_. He hadn’t even seen his father since he was seven years old, and the only solid image he had of the man in his mind now was that of a glossy black casket lowering six feet into the earth.

He shut his eyes, trying to find a part of himself to mourn Rafael McCall, but Scott knew already: he’d mourned his father for the past fifteen years. The public funeral was just for everyone else Rafael more recently abandoned. He spared a sad, regretful thought for the group of people huddled around the grave, tears readily falling from their eyes. If he felt bad about anything, it was that they lost a friend and coworker.

He briefly wondered if it should mean anything that his father never remarried or had another kid, but really, if he couldn’t take care of the one, it was probably all for the best that he didn’t disappoint anyone else. Scott felt bitter at the thought but shrugged it off as he stretched an arm out to the coffee table, pulling it closer to the couch. He used it as a makeshift computer table most of the time for his laptop, and as he opened it up, a bright wallpaper of Isaac Lahey, former boyband member and famous popstar brought a smile to Scott’s full lips.

Stiles told Scott repeatedly that Isaac was his guilty pleasure. In fact, he told anyone that would listen about Scott’s self-admitted love for the singer, but he felt no guilt in this pleasure. He often brought Isaac up in conversations with strangers long before Stiles ever had the chance to ‘out’ him anyway. He saw no harm in it. So he was in love with an unattainable popstar—who wasn’t at some point in their life?

His best friend often saw fit to remind Scott that most people grew out of their popstar crushes long before they graduated college, but Scott just shrugged. It wasn’t as though being a Lahead—a term Scott pointedly did not often use to describe his fanaticism—interfered with his daily life. If anything, he met new friends because of it and got to travel several times on road trips to concerts. He even met Isaac once during a very brief meet-and-greet as a VIP ticket holder. Besides, even Stiles couldn’t deny the benefit of road trips. And Scott had video evidence that Stiles more than tolerated Isaac’s music, if his ridiculous dancing at the last concert was anything to go by.

While he waited for his desktop to load fully, Scott wandered back to his bedroom, changing into a colorful, sleeveless tank and baggy grey sweats. He grabbed a beer and a bag of Doritos from his kitchen before collapsing back on his sofa. He sat up, legs crossed as he entered one of his actual guilty pleasures that even Stiles wasn’t privy to: Omegle.

Scott didn’t go to the site every day, but it was a nice stress relief to talk to strangers who shared his interest in Isaac. And if he occasionally entered the ‘gay’ tag to do more than talk, well, who needed to know? Those times he always kept his head above the webcam’s view anyway.

On this particular night, though, he wasn’t remotely horny, so he went straight into the Laheads tag, hoping against hope that there’d be more hits than misses.

The first few people Scott saw pop into view on the miniature webcam screen were younger than he felt comfortable talking to. He lasted all of ten seconds talking to one age-appropriate girl before she flashed him. He quickly ended the chat, and the next person he saw stopped every fiber in his body from functioning.

There on his screen was Isaac Lahey, smiling gently with messy blond curls, a soft-looking white shirt, and what looked like a fluffy bunch of pillows behind him. Scott’s mouth hung open stupidly, and he knew it because he could see himself in the lower left-hand corner of his screen.

Isaac waved, smile growing wider, before speaking: “Hi there. I’m Isaac.”

Scott thought, ‘I know that!’ very loudly in his head, but thanks to some divine intervention, he stopped himself from vocalizing it.

“Um, are you—are you _actually_ Isaac, or is this some sort of tricky robot scam?”

Isaac laughed, his shoulders moving gently. The sound robbed Scott of any reliable brain function.

“I’d be offended if I hadn’t been asked that a dozen times already.”

“Well, in my defense, it’s not every day I see a music god in the flesh. Er, digital flesh. Desh? Screen skin? Skeen?”

Scott thought he sounded every bit an idiot, but Isaac laughed again. His stomach bubbled like a witch’s brew, and he really wanted to cast a spell, any spell, over Isaac to keep him talking.

“You have a nice laugh,” Scott said unthinkingly. He inwardly cursed his lack of a filter.

“Do I? I always thought it was kind of obnoxious.”

“Not at all. It sounds…warm and happy and kind of like the ocean.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow, smile turning to a smirk. Scott felt his cheeks warm.

“I’m sorry. That’s a really dumb thing to say. Ignore me.”

“It’s not dumb. I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ll take that compliment, though. Maybe I can add it to my Wikipedia page. ‘Six-foot, two-inches tall. Twenty-seven years old. Laugh like an ocean.’”

Scott couldn’t help the giggle—actual _giggle_ —that escaped his mouth, and at Isaac’s wider smile, he didn’t regret it either.

“So, not that I’m complaining at all, but what _are_ you doing on Omegle? Don’t you have super famous people things to do?”

Isaac shrugged. “Guess I missed the memo tonight. The super famous people club might have lost my number?” He shook his head, rolling his eyes playfully. “And I guess I got curious. My best friend uses this site sometimes, and she’s always telling me about the people she meets. I never get much time during the meet-and-greets, so I thought it would be cool to talk to the fans sort-of-face-to-sort-of-face.”

Scott nodded, cheeks still warm and heartbeat a little quicker than was probably healthy. “Met many fans tonight?”

“Yeah, actually. Some very sweet kids.” His cheeks turned a faint shade of red as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “And a couple of, um, very confident ladies with strong body images.”

Scott’s eyes went wide. He laughed, his stomach going tight and eyes squinting shut.

“I think I’ve met one or two of those myself. One right before we started talking, actually.”

“I was…unprepared,” Isaac said.

“I’ve been to a few concerts, so I know you’ve at least seen some bras thrown at you. Can’t be that much of a surprise.”

Isaac rubbed at his face, groaning. “It happens, but, like, I can’t see much of anything past the stage lights anyway. Thank god.”

Scott laughed harder. “Does that mean you didn’t keep the jockstrap I threw at you?”

Isaac’s eyes went a little wide, staring right at Scott through the screen.

“Kidding! I am so kidding.”

“That’s not funny,” Isaac said. The grin on his face begged to differ, though. “You know, you’re actually the first guy I’ve met tonight.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty normal. Mostly it’s just girls in the Laheads tag.”

“That name. I will never escape that name. I shudder every time I hear it. You know, I didn’t even get a choice in the matter?”

“Could be worse.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Cumberbitches.”

Isaac snorted, clearly surprised by Scott’s blunt delivery. “I—yeah. Okay, valid point. I’ll never complain about Laheads again.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere about getting good Lahead.”

“Oh my god, stop. Stop right there.”

Scott felt so light, so thoroughly happy talking with Isaac that he’d briefly forgotten they weren’t just old friends.

“So this is weird, but you’re really easy to talk to. I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

Isaac smiled happily. “I was actually thinking the same thing. You’re the easiest fan to talk to yet, but you haven’t even told me your name. I’ll only be able to remember you as Jockstrap-Guy.”

“Scott,” he said too quickly, too forcefully. “ _Please_ don’t remember me as Jockstrap-Guy. I haven’t even worn one of those since high school.”

At Isaac’s raised eyebrow, Scott’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “Lacrosse! I played lacrosse. Nothing freaky, I swear.”

“Uh-huh.” Isaac raised his hands to either side of his head, palms facing the screen. “This is a judgment free zone, Scott. No need to be so defensive.”

He wanted to argue, but Isaac Lahey just said his name—out loud—and registering that fact was taking up all his brainpower.

At the dopey look on his face, Isaac leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowing. “Uh, are you okay?”

“Huh—oh sorry.” He rubbed at his bicep sheepishly. “Just got distracted, that’s all.”

Isaac hummed a response. “Well, my plan for tonight was to meet maybe thirty or forty people before bed. If there even are that many online?”

Scott gulped. This sounded like the start of a goodbye. He couldn’t help the slight frown on his face. “Yeah, there’s easily more than that most every night.”

Isaac seemed to consider this new information while Scott nibbled as his bottom lip.

“Do—do you have to leave?” The disappointed tone in his voice didn’t escape his own notice. Or Isaac’s either, it seemed.

“Aww. Don’t look so sad, Scott. You’re breaking my heart here.” He said it with a smile, and to hear his name again, Scott couldn’t help but smile a little back.

“Sorry. Kind of forgot for a minute that we weren’t friends.”

Scott watched as Isaac sucked in his top lip before covering it with his hand, a thoughtful look settling in his eyes.

“I do really like talking to you,” he said after a few too many beats of Scott’s poor heart. “But I can’t just give my phone number out to someone I just met. I’d get in deep trouble. Again.”

Scott hung his head. “I wouldn’t share it with anyone. But…I understand. It can’t be easy to worry about being stalked all the time.”

Scott added quickly, “I’m not, by the way. A stalker. I swear.”

Isaac laughed. “Someone asked me earlier about an app. Kik?” He asked, voice unsure. “It’s a messenger, right?”

Scott’s face lit up, chest full of fluttering hope. “Yes, oh my god, yes. I have it already.”

“Does it ask for a number?”

Scott shook his head vigorously. “No, no, nothing like that. Just a username and maybe an email. I think. You don’t even have to put your real name or anything, and no one can see your email.”

Isaac scratched at his scalp. He gave Scott a look that the other couldn’t quite process before reaching for his phone.

“Okay, you might have to help me set this up. I’m not the most tech-friendly guy in the world.”

Scott’s breath caught sharp in his throat. “You’re serious… You’re really getting an account just to talk to me?”

Isaac shrugged as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “It’s hard making new friends in this business. You seem like someone I’d like to know more.”

Scott’s mouth hung open, and for one of the few times in his life, he was at a loss for words. “I don’t actually know what to say. Just…thank you. I promise I won’t be a creep or anything.”

Isaac laughed, eyes looking up and head shaking. “Honestly, Scott, if I was worried about that, I would have just wished you a good night and moved on to the next person.”

Scott watched quietly while Isaac downloaded the app to his phone and created an account. He looked up when he finished, asking how to add a friend.

“Um, I can do that? If you just tell me your username.” Scott nibbled nervously at his bottom lip, certain that at any minute this whole fantasy would end, and he would wake up drenched in disappointment.

“Scottmademedoit. All one word.” Isaac’s smile was positively gloating, clearly proud of the username.

Scott quickly typed the name into his phone, talking to Isaac while focusing on the smaller screen. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or deeply offended that I’m the inspiration for your username.”

“¿ _Porque no los dos_?” Isaac asked.

Scott looked up, surprised. “You speak Spanish?”

“You’ve just heard nearly all of it, actually. Sorry.”

Scott’s smile physically hurt. “I can teach you.” He sent a quick message to Isaac through Kik: ‘You should add a profile picture.’

Despite knowing he was messaging Isaac, he still found himself surprised when he heard the other’s phone ding at the incoming message.

“This is you?”

“Who else?”

“Right. Hang on.”

Isaac played around with the app, finally adding a picture from one of his recent shows. His hair is slicked back with sweat and there’s purple stage lights making his skin look almost alien, but the smile on his face is big and full of joy.

“Okay, I’m officially a kicker.”

“I don’t think anyone says that.”

“Yeah, well.” Isaac shrugs. “I do now. Anyway, I just started my first vacation in nearly a year, and now that I’ve met some cool people and even made a new friend, I’m going to pass out and maybe sleep for a week.”

Scott nodded, body still buzzing from the night’s events. “I’ll try not to bother you.” He waved his phone at the screen. “Don’t want to scare you off too soon.”

Isaac laughed. “Some friend you are. All my best friends are obnoxious. I can’t escape them, and they’re all terrible.” He stuck his tongue out. “Feel free to send me messages whenever you want. I’ll respond when I can. Just, you know, sometimes I’m crazy busy.”

“Of course! Just tell me if I’m bothering you.”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “How do you know I won’t be the one bothering _you_? For all you know, I’m a very clingy friend. I might be the stalker. How’s that for a twist?”

Scott’s happy laugh shook his shoulders and crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I honestly think I wouldn’t mind.”

“You say that now.”

“I do.”

“Goodnight, Scott,” Isaac told him, waving again like he had when Scott first saw him on the screen.

“Nighty-night, pop princess.”

Isaac glared at him while shutting his laptop off, burning the image of a disgruntled, sleepy Isaac into Scott’s mind. Seconds later, his phone went off, alerting him to a new message.

‘I like to think of myself more like a pop knight. Out on the frontlines, fighting the good fight. Hopefully with a horse. Definitely with a sword.’

Scott rubbed at his face with disbelief. He had no idea how messaging Isaac Lahey became a thing he did, but he wanted to thank whoever orchestrated it.

‘Swords are cool. But with those blond locks of yours? You’re definitely a princess. At the very least a duchess.’

‘I was so wrong about you. You’re terrible.’

Before Scott could panic for long, another message appeared.

‘I knew I liked you.’

Scott thought that if he were just a few years younger, he’d be squirming on his couch, legs kicking out from the sheer excitement running through his veins. At it was, he managed to keep his joy confined to a high-pitched hum at the back of his throat and a goofy grin.

Instead of messaging back, Scott held his phone up, angling it properly at himself to catch a photo of his sleepy but pleased smile. He sent it, not expecting a reply.

‘You look sleepy. Go to bed, Jockstrap-Guy.’

Scott’s reply was a photo of himself pouting, puppy-dog eyes in full effect.

‘That is unfairly cute. You play dirty.’

Scott blinked back at the phone. Isaac Lahey just called him cute, and he didn’t think he’d be able to breathe again for at least a century.

‘I’m going to bed for real now.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ Scott replied.


	2. Scenes From A Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of scenes from the earliest days of the boys' growing friendship.

Scene 1

* * *

Mornings hit Scott like a prize fighter. The unfiltered sunbeams blaring into his bedroom made him curse, rolling over away from the offensive light to curl in on himself. Decidedly the worst thing about his apartment was the location of his bedroom window, and while yes, he could absolutely buy a curtain or a blanket or even build a wall of legos to block out the rising sun, he just hadn’t done it yet. He would rebuke your judgment given the chance, so back off, okay?

Timing was never his strong suit.

In his newly established fetal position, Scott remembered the previous day. On the one hand, his father’s funeral: solemn, depressing, stifling, a little long; on the other hand, meeting Isaac: beautiful, funny, delirium-inducing, not nearly long enough conversation-wise. _An eventful day all around_ , he thought.

“OH!” he shouted, shooting up in a sitting position on the messy bed.

Pulling out his phone, he clicked the Kik app and immediately entered his conversation with Isaac. He blinked. And again. And again, as if trying to brush the disbelief away from his eyes.

“I think we’re friends now.” he said to no one. Then, deciding to push his luck, he sent a quick ‘Good morning, princess’ message to the pop star.

He swung his legs out of bed and pulled himself up, stretching and grinning when his back made a loud, satisfying _POP_!

His morning routine was simple enough. First, he languished around his apartment for a solid half hour, checking his phone for updates and browsing social media. There wasn’t usually much there, though, so he quickly jumped in the shower to clean the previous day off and rub one out for posterity’s sake. Not always in that order. After, he’d quickly throw on something that smelled marginally clean, heat up a breakfast burrito, and leave for work.

Despite a degree in social work, Scott McCall still worked his same job from college: cashier at a local grocery store. He applied weekly for better opportunities, but at least his bills were covered and his coworkers weren’t dicks. So really, he didn’t have much room to complain. Most days.

On this particular day, his manager eyed him warily as he walked through the automatic doors.

“McCall,” Chris Argent called gruffly, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Scott looked side-to-side, down at himself and his uniform, and back to Mr. Argent with a confused expression.

“Working?” His eyes widened. “I’m not fired, am I?”

His manager rolled his eyes, sighing. “No, McCall, but I assumed you’d want some time off after the funeral.”

_Ah_ , Scott thought, _I guess that’s normal._ He shrugged his shoulders. “I’d rather get back to the grind, if it’s alright?”

At the sigh-and-nod combo he’d come to expect from the older man, Scott took it as permission and headed to the breakroom to clock in before spending the morning behind a register cheerfully interacting with customers until his first lunch break.

Since he wasn’t working with anyone he particularly liked that day, he slipped earbuds in, putting on his favorite Isaac Lahey playlist from Spotify while eating the sandwich he’d bought from the deli. It wasn’t until partway through his lunch that a loud alert tone startled him.

‘You wake up at an ungodly hour, heathen.’

‘And I told you, pop KNIGHT. Knight. Get it right, or I’ll turn my sword on you.’

Scott had to restrain himself not to make a dick joke. Instead, he replied:

‘Just a flesh wound.’ 

And because he wasn’t the master of his own ship yet, he added: 

‘Also dude’

‘Did you just threaten to hit me with your dick?’

‘WHAT.’

‘Scott it’s too early for this.’

‘You’re still in bed?’

‘So this is that pop star life everyone fantasizes about.’

He receives a photo of Isaac shirtless and still very much in bed with messy hair and a sleepy smile in lieu of a message. He quickly saves it to his phone.

‘Thanks, I needed a new lock screen.’

‘Just as long as you don’t sell it to the paparazzi. Eat your heart out.’

_I’d prefer if you ate me out,_ he thought, rolling his eyes at himself. He had just enough self-preservation instincts not to send that message at least.

‘I have to get back to work.’

He sent a photo of himself in his work uniform throwing a peace sign at Isaac before stashing his phone away in his pocket. He didn’t see the other’s reply until he had already clocked out.

‘What do you do?’

‘You have mayo on your lip.’

‘Oh god I hope it’s mayo.’

‘Scott please tell me it’s mayo.’

‘SCOTT.’

Even though it was four hours later, he replied:

‘Yes it’s mayo, pervert.’

‘And I guess you were right. You are a clingy friend. ;)’

‘Rude.’

‘I’m going to write a song about you called Jockstraps and Mayo Lips. Then you’ll be sorry.’

He followed the message up with a video of him singing, “Jockstraps and mayo lips, these are a few of Scott’s favorite things” obnoxiously.

Scott couldn’t get over how incredibly pleased he felt about the whole thing.

 

Scene 2

* * *

 On the third day of their friendship, Isaac learned that he could video call Scott on Kik. It was during this time that he also learned Scott didn’t exactly keep his apartment spotless.

“I thought you said you lived alone.” Isaac stated, face and tone neutral.

“I do?” Scott replied, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Then what was that beast I just saw run from one trash pile to the other.”

Scott rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

“Those are clean clothes. There’s no beasts in my apartment. I just cleaned last week...ish.”

Isaac let out a laugh at Scott’s bashful expression. “Uh huh, sure. You know, most people put their clean clothes in a closet or maybe a dresser. You’re truly a wonder.”

“I don’t live in the closet, and neither do my clothes. Besides, we can’t all have butlers do our laundry for us,” Scott fired back playfully.

Isaac rolled his eyes. “What am I, Batman? Have you even once seen a butler walking around here?”

Scott shrugged. “No, but I mean, I’ve only known you for maybe three days, max. For all I know your butler lives on the sixteenth floor of your mansion. Maybe _you_ don’t even know you have one. Ever think about that? He just came with the house like one of those old crystal door knobs that look like giant diamonds. He was born there, he was raised there by the maid and the cook, and he’ll die there someday, smothered under all your piles of cash.”

Scott never felt more like Stiles in his life and rubbed a hand slowly down his face.

“I...I don’t even know what you’re talking about anymore.”

“Me neither, but I made myself hungry.”

“You know, you eat more than maybe anybody I’ve ever met. Where does it even go?”

Scott smiled proudly, pulling up his shirt to expose his abs, patting them to make a loud slapping noise.

“Metabolism, dude. If I ever lose it, I’m going to have to go on _My 600-lb. Life_. Twice.”

Isaac laughed, and Scott wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he thought he saw a faint blush on the pop star’s pale cheeks.

 

Scene 3

* * *

 The first time Scott lied about who he was talking to was while sitting in the passenger’s seat of Stiles’ Jeep.

“Why do you keep smiling at your phone so much? It’s creepy. What are you plotting?”

“No one,” Scott replies, pointedly hiding his phone under his thigh. It dings twice while he tries to maintain an innocent expression in the face of Stiles’s dubious looks between him and the road.

“Ew. Are you sexting? Scott, we aren’t teenagers anymore. You can send whole ass dick pics now.”

At Scott’s offended face, Stiles rolled on with, “Even whole ass pics, if that’s your thing. I tried to take a hole pic once for Derek but just ended up falling face-first into the tiles in the shower.”

Scott balked, his face the definition of disgust as he turned to the window, pressing his cheek to the cool glass.

“Someone save me,” he pleaded half-heartedly.

“What?!” Mock offense from the driver’s seat. He made a noise like, _humph_ , and shrugged. “Like you’ve never tried it.”

Scott chuckled to himself, retrieving his phone to read Isaac’s messages.

‘There’s nothing quite like licking Cheeto dust off your fingers to feel like you’ve spent a day well-lived.’

‘I take it back, there’s Cheeto stains on my sofa.’

‘I think I need that butler you were talking about.’

‘Want a job, Scotty?’

He couldn’t keep the dopey grin off his face as he read through Isaac’s admittedly innocuous texts. It still blew his mind he was allowed these moments with the same guy whose posters used to litter his bedroom walls.

A photo of Isaac sucking on one of his fingers popped into the chat box as Scott was smiling down at his phone, short-circuiting his brain and beginning to tighten his jeans uncomfortably. Stiles rambled on, but Scott wasn’t able to follow any of the conversation.

 

Scene 4

* * *

 One night, Scott fell asleep during one of their video calls after they’d watched a movie together and talked all the way through it. That next morning, Scott woke up to a dead phone. Once he recharged it, he saw Isaac left him a series of messages.

‘So you fell asleep on me, which is incredibly rude.’

‘But sort of adorable.’

‘Also you snore.’

‘Like a lot. You should be embarrassed.’

The last message arrived a little after 1 in the morning. The most recent message, however, came at 5 AM. It read: ‘I can’t sleep, and I miss you. Wake up, Scotty.’

Scott sucked in a breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing at it while he processed the series of messages. Was Isaac flirting with him, or was this just how he talked to all of his other friends? He pushed away the nagging hope and desire for the pop star and responded quickly before he spent his entire day overthinking a handful of sentences.

‘I’m awake now if you’re still up.’

He left his phone to charge while getting ready. He was off work today, but he’d promised to drive home to help his mother mow her yard. When he made it back to his phone minutes later, he opened the Kik app to find a missed video call from Isaac and two new messages.

‘Scott!’

‘No fair. You said you were awake.’

He called Isaac back immediately.

“So you _are_ awake,” Isaac said in an accusatory tone. His eyes looked red and overly tired, and his curling brown locks were scattered in a messy nest over his head.

Scott couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped his lips.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Yeah, yeah. I haven’t been to sleep, so I don’t accept this morning crap. It’s just late-early evening.”

Scott snorted in reply. “That’s not a thing.”

“You’re not a thing,” the pop star replied weakly.

“Smooth.”

Scott fished his keys and wallet out of the glass bowl he always threw them into and slipped into an old pair of sneakers.

“What are you doing?” a curious voice called through the phone. “You’re moving around too much for it to be so early.”

“I thought it was still later morning evening?”

“Late- _early_ ,” Isaac corrected. “You’re incredibly combative when you’ve slept like a normal human being.”

Scott smiled into the camera. Isaac rolled his eyes at the overly fond display.

“I believe you said you missed me.”

“It must have been the delirium talking.”

“Rough night?” Scott asked as he stepped out of his apartment, turned, and locked the door behind him.

Isaac was unnaturally quiet, so Scott held the phone up to his face, studying the singer’s downturned lips and exhausted-looking expression.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked sincerely.

Isaac shrugged. “Sometimes I can’t sleep. Nothing to worry about.”

“Gonna worry anyway,” was Scott’s reply as he strolled down the stairway.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Just over to my mom’s house to help with some yard work.”

“Well aren’t you perfect?” Isaac asked without a hint of bitterness.

Scott shrugged. “I try,” he said with a bright smile.

Isaac turned his head away as the faint traces of a blush bloomed in his cheeks.

 

Scene 5

* * *

 When Scott arrived back to his apartment after helping his mother that day, he collapsed hard into his sofa and sat there unmoving for nearly an hour. He’d talked to Isaac on a voice call for most of the drive to his mom’s, and only when he’d pulled into the driveway did Isaac hang up to try and sleep. He hadn’t heard from him since, but at the exhausted look from earlier, Scott was worried for the singer. He sent off a quick message:

‘Hope you’re sleeping well. I just made it back home.’

He attached a photo of his face, hair still sweaty and face stained with dirt and remnants of the cut grass. He needed a shower pronto, but his limbs weren’t ready to move again yet.

‘Just woke up a bit ago,’ came the quick response.

‘I’ve had worse sleeps.’

‘You look gross and probably smell worse. I recommend a shower.’

Scott smiled. ‘Come help.’

‘I’m too tired to move a muscle. You’re lucky I can even talk to you.’

A video call request came through. Scott accepted immediately.

“Dude, I can smell you from here. Go. Shower.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but a faint smile spread across his lips. “Come. Help.”

He watched the blush wash over Isaac’s skin.

“I had a dream I was a mushroom farmer.”

“Never heard of one before,” Scott said, noticing the dramatic subject change. “Better than dreaming about high school.” A shudder spread across his shoulders. “Sometimes I still have nightmares I skipped an entire year and have to take tests about things I’ve never heard of.”

Isaac’s laugh always gave Scott a warm feeling in his gut. It was nice to finally see his mood seem lighter.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about this morning.”

He watched as Isaac bit at his thumbnail nervously. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, Isaac. I was just worried.”

Isaac’s smile was small, delicate, but visible. It made Scott’s cheeks flush.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments. Please leave me one?


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